Is it too much?
A place where one
explores life to its fullest, Continue reading Is it too much?
Binding force
The things we love, desire, yearn for… Continue reading Binding force
Such submissive bystanders they have become…
\begin{Caste}
{
In a town named gummudippondi,
There was a big man,
With a huge paunch
And a long mustache,
With a wife and 10 kids,
Living in an imperial building.
}
Continue reading “Such submissive bystanders they have become…”
Ah, The Rain…
‘For men may come and men may go, I shall go for ever’, so wrote Tennyson; befitting it is to say this of our city brook on a rainy day, down the streets where I live… Continue reading Ah, The Rain…
Restrained clouds
\begin{enumerate}
{
I see clouds passing by.
Such gigantic beings,
Yet, quite quiet,
And inconspicuous,
Until one lifts
their head up.
The sun’s powerful rays, too,
Are blocked temporarily,
By these blobs of white cotton.
}
Continue reading “Restrained clouds”
Um homem cego e um polonês
‘The blind man and a Pole’
\begin{Poem}
{
A blind man.
Arms outstretched,
a fruit seller perhaps ?
Selling brown vegetables,
With white flesh inside.
Is love of a white mother
any different, I wonder,
From the love of a black nanny,
Or for that matter, from
minha querida mãe marrom ?
my dear, brown, mother ?
}
Continue reading “Um homem cego e um polonês”
What would happen
\begin{poem@}
{
What would happen
when all the knowledge and memories
from childhood to adulthood,
from colleges to universities,
cease to operate in the entire humanity?
}
Eu vejo…I see !
{
I see birds flying
eu vejo os pássaros voando
singly and together
sozinhos e juntos
into the faraway clouds;
nas distantes nuvens;
}
The story of a white board
We have a white board in the office upstairs where we usually sit, if we are not working in the lab. This poem came to life on Friday, while cycling to work. The white board yearns for its alter ego: the black board. Of course, these words can be erased, but once they have come together and joyfully consummated, they become inseparable. They reach a stable union which even the Goliath cannot pull them apart.
Down the memory lane
Someone who has taught for 40 years, retires from his work.
Their students organised a get together to share the memories.
The passage below was written on the 7th of November in homage to F & B.
We will also age. Would we also become insightful and thoughtful citizens of the world ?
Perpetual Motion of Thought 